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TRANSFORMATIONS: WOOD STOVES AND FAITH
http://asbarez.com/107790/transformations-woodstoves-and-faith/
Tuesday, January 22nd, 2013
BY MARIA TITIZIAN
Most days you just want to turn the switch off, go home, sit on
the couch and watch a meaningless movie. You don't want to think
about work, about deadlines and responsibilities, about the upcoming
presidential elections or about your crazy, chaotic life. You crave
boredom, monotony, a peaceful existence.
And then a 23 year-old journalist goes ahead and files a news report
about the first presidential elections (1991) in a free and independent
Armenia, an Armenia you didn't believe would exist in your lifetime
and you realize that you don't have the right or the luxury to switch
anything off.
It wasn't so much the substance or content of her report that moved me
but how she had made herself part of the story she was trying to tell.
And as her friends and colleagues shared her clip, they began to
reminisce about those early years of our country's independence. Most
of them were mere children, some not even old enough to talk or to
even have memories. Yet oddly they recalled similar things. Like
the smell of potatoes baking on woodstoves in their apartments, the
darkness, the cold winter nights, the candlelight. They remembered
their euphoria when the electricity would unexpectedly return or how
they would play games or do their homework by candlelight; or how
the neighbors in their building would all come together for warmth,
for some company and compassion. An entire generation of Armenia's
children grew up in the "cold and dark years" of the early 1990s. Most
of them grew up without the basic comforts we took and continue to
take for granted, like warmth, light, clean water, proper nutrition,
a carefree and blissful existence. They could have been my children...
Many of that generation have left Armenia and many continue to leave.
But for those who have stayed, those young men and women who paid
a high price for something they didn't understand, it is for and
about them that we should all continue to work, regardless of where
we live, whether in the homeland or the Diaspora. None of us will be
able to give them back their childhood, but we can try and restore
their faith in the future of Armenia.
Yet, as I write such lofty sentiments about how we should 'restore
their faith,' it dawns on me that they are the ones who are restoring
ours. The steadily growing environmental movement is Armenia is teeming
with young people, who see themselves not as temporary residents in
search of a visa guaranteeing their departure but as the rightful
owners of this land. There are those dedicated group of activists who
are on the frontlines to ensure the protection of human rights in the
country, and who consistently address different kinds of abuses and
injustice with conviction; there are those women's rights activists
who confront stereotypes and rigid gender roles on a daily basis yet
who carry on to ensure that women's voices, perspectives and needs are
guaranteed in decision-making; and there are those young journalists
who try to enlighten us by writing articles and filming reports about
the state of the country from their own unique prism. It is true that
journalism in Armenia has much room for improvement but there are
some news organizations trying to fill that void. And while there is
an army of those who complain or simply write statuses on Facebook,
there are just as many more who are trying to ensure a dignified life
for everyone.
I work with a lot of different people, most of them considerably
younger; it's not always pleasant being the oldest person in the room,
but I have come to realize what a gift it has been for me. Every day I
interact with young, bright, and, energetic people who work hard, dream
big and strive for excellence. I forget about their personal stories,
their memories and recollections of those difficult early years of our
country's independence when they huddled around woodstoves, trying to
warm their frozen little fingers so that they could play the piano, or
read a fairy tale or simply run around to play a game of hide-and-seek.
The generation of the 'cold and dark years' are now young adults,
studying, working, serving in the army, getting ready to chart their
journey through life. Their passage through childhood was not an easy
one, it was fraught with hardship and many deprivations but their
nostalgia when recalling potatoes baking on woodstoves and fond
memories of candlelight in the darkness simple proves, yet again,
the strength and resilience of the human spirit.
I read a saying today, "A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor." If
there's any truth to these words, then our future is indeed bright.
http://asbarez.com/107790/transformations-woodstoves-and-faith/
Tuesday, January 22nd, 2013
BY MARIA TITIZIAN
Most days you just want to turn the switch off, go home, sit on
the couch and watch a meaningless movie. You don't want to think
about work, about deadlines and responsibilities, about the upcoming
presidential elections or about your crazy, chaotic life. You crave
boredom, monotony, a peaceful existence.
And then a 23 year-old journalist goes ahead and files a news report
about the first presidential elections (1991) in a free and independent
Armenia, an Armenia you didn't believe would exist in your lifetime
and you realize that you don't have the right or the luxury to switch
anything off.
It wasn't so much the substance or content of her report that moved me
but how she had made herself part of the story she was trying to tell.
And as her friends and colleagues shared her clip, they began to
reminisce about those early years of our country's independence. Most
of them were mere children, some not even old enough to talk or to
even have memories. Yet oddly they recalled similar things. Like
the smell of potatoes baking on woodstoves in their apartments, the
darkness, the cold winter nights, the candlelight. They remembered
their euphoria when the electricity would unexpectedly return or how
they would play games or do their homework by candlelight; or how
the neighbors in their building would all come together for warmth,
for some company and compassion. An entire generation of Armenia's
children grew up in the "cold and dark years" of the early 1990s. Most
of them grew up without the basic comforts we took and continue to
take for granted, like warmth, light, clean water, proper nutrition,
a carefree and blissful existence. They could have been my children...
Many of that generation have left Armenia and many continue to leave.
But for those who have stayed, those young men and women who paid
a high price for something they didn't understand, it is for and
about them that we should all continue to work, regardless of where
we live, whether in the homeland or the Diaspora. None of us will be
able to give them back their childhood, but we can try and restore
their faith in the future of Armenia.
Yet, as I write such lofty sentiments about how we should 'restore
their faith,' it dawns on me that they are the ones who are restoring
ours. The steadily growing environmental movement is Armenia is teeming
with young people, who see themselves not as temporary residents in
search of a visa guaranteeing their departure but as the rightful
owners of this land. There are those dedicated group of activists who
are on the frontlines to ensure the protection of human rights in the
country, and who consistently address different kinds of abuses and
injustice with conviction; there are those women's rights activists
who confront stereotypes and rigid gender roles on a daily basis yet
who carry on to ensure that women's voices, perspectives and needs are
guaranteed in decision-making; and there are those young journalists
who try to enlighten us by writing articles and filming reports about
the state of the country from their own unique prism. It is true that
journalism in Armenia has much room for improvement but there are
some news organizations trying to fill that void. And while there is
an army of those who complain or simply write statuses on Facebook,
there are just as many more who are trying to ensure a dignified life
for everyone.
I work with a lot of different people, most of them considerably
younger; it's not always pleasant being the oldest person in the room,
but I have come to realize what a gift it has been for me. Every day I
interact with young, bright, and, energetic people who work hard, dream
big and strive for excellence. I forget about their personal stories,
their memories and recollections of those difficult early years of our
country's independence when they huddled around woodstoves, trying to
warm their frozen little fingers so that they could play the piano, or
read a fairy tale or simply run around to play a game of hide-and-seek.
The generation of the 'cold and dark years' are now young adults,
studying, working, serving in the army, getting ready to chart their
journey through life. Their passage through childhood was not an easy
one, it was fraught with hardship and many deprivations but their
nostalgia when recalling potatoes baking on woodstoves and fond
memories of candlelight in the darkness simple proves, yet again,
the strength and resilience of the human spirit.
I read a saying today, "A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor." If
there's any truth to these words, then our future is indeed bright.